


I love what I hate (But you give me love)

by AstralSweetness



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: I mean kind of, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, hyunggu is mentioned, it has a plot but not really, smoking is mentioned, smut warnings can be found at the top of the fic, so if you're going to read this for some reason pls check those first, yuto and wooseok are also mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:08:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27917257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstralSweetness/pseuds/AstralSweetness
Summary: It takes Hui too long to realize he had instinctively reached for the younger boy’s hand some time ago and was still holding it, fingers interlaced. That, above everything else, makes his throat close up with emotion.♡Sooo..... I was working on an underground band AU and realized I probably will never get around to finishing it bcs slowly, over time, I begin to hate my own writing :) So this is just a snippet from that AU
Relationships: Kim Hyojong | Dawn/Kim Hyuna/Lee Hwitaek | Hui, Kim Hyojong | E'Dawn/Lee Hwitaek | Hui
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	I love what I hate (But you give me love)

**Author's Note:**

> hahaha i hate this :)
> 
> For context, since this is literally from the middle of the AU: Hui and Hyojong are in opposing bands and Hui is basically 'mortal enemies' with Hyojong just bcs he doesn't like the guy lmao... Hyojong could not care less, he just thinks Hui is cute. Hyuna loves them both anyway regardless, luckily lmao  
>  **Warnings:** Bareback, references to blowjobs, hairpulling, implied breathplay ig?? Hui’s sort of a dick and also sort of a desperate slut for Hyojong bcs he sucks at this point in the timeline :/

The studio Hyojong had was in a building filled with people dressed in high-end clothing – Hui’s still in his outfit from earlier that day, consisting of some old t-shirt, ripped jeans, and his leather jacket, and he’s never felt more out of place. (Hyojong is more dressed down than he is in a faded black hoodie and jeans, and yet people look at Hui like _he’s_ the one who shouldn’t be there. He wonders if it’s just due to Hyuna’s influence.)

“I told her I don’t need half this shit, but..” Hyojong’s speaking as he punches in a passcode and Hui is only half paying attention, thinking more about the fact that he was voluntarily here with someone he claimed he hated. (Not that the sentiment meant anything anymore, considering he was routinely meeting up with the other boy for less than decent activities despite the fact that he resolutely did not like him.)

“Oh.” He sees what Hyojong was talking about the instant he pushes the door open – the room is decked out in expensive equipment, half of which are shit he’s never even seen before. It suddenly makes all the sense in the world why their band always had such polished sounding music. “No wonder.”

He realizes he’s instinctively trying to goad Hyojong into a fight only after he says it – the other boy doesn’t take the bait, just glances at him out of the corner of his eye as he moves to open the recording booth’s door, giving a slight nod when Hui moves to put his jacket over the back of the couch and then hesitates like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to.

When he follows him into the room there’s a long moment where Hui entirely forgets why he was there or who he was with –he’s all over the new equipment, asking questions and (carefully) trying to touch everything. It’s only when he catches Hyojong’s eye that he realizes what he’s doing. The other boy is watching him with his head slightly tilted, leaning against the now shut door and looking just as sleepy as always but with a soft smile on his face.

Hui hates how cute it makes him look, marches over to him with the intention of erasing that expression. (And it was definitely not because some part of him had melted at the sight and wanted to kiss him.)

Hyojong tastes of the same shitty brand of cigarettes he always smokes – Hui doesn’t understand why he still chooses the cheaper stuff when he clearly has the money to buy more expensive brands. Still, it’s something Hui has just innately come to associate with the other boy, so he licks into his mouth without a moment’s hesitation. There’s a soft sort of noise Hyojong always makes when he does this, a tiny little whine in the back of his throat that somehow sounds dominating, and it always goes straight to Hui’s dick and makes his knees weak.

Hui had learned in these last few weeks that Hyojong’s kisses were _mean_ – that didn’t mean _he_ was mean, unfortunately. The more Hui had gotten to know him the more he’d realized that the reputation Hyojong had was largely false. (And also, probably, largely because of Hui himself.)

Kissing Hyojong for extended periods of time always meant that his lips would be left tingling and bruised for hours afterward, and as much as he wanted to complain about it out of principle he never did. God forbid Hyojong _actually_ started being gentler with him.

The kiss is awkward for the first few heartbeats, Hui half-heartedly fighting for dominance as he tries to push Hyojong into taking control. It happens in a rush that knocks his breath out of his lungs, surprisingly strong arms pushing him into the wall and holding him braced there as Hyojong explores every inch of his mouth. Between hitting the wall and being devoured by the other's mouth Hui can barely breathe - he could so easily push Hyojong away for a moment, regain his breath, but he doesn't. He just lets Hyojong lead and drowns in a floating daze until the other boy pulls back ever so slightly. The sudden rush of air that he can breathe in makes his head spin.

“Is this what you wanted?” Hyojong punctuates his question with a sharp nip to Hui’s jaw that has his mind buzzing in a white haze. Even after he made his intentions totally clear Hyojong still feels the need to re-confirm, and it’s sweet and Hui has no idea how to handle it.

“God, could you just fucking shut up? Just –” Hui _really_ wished he didn’t find Hyojong as attractive as he did. It’d be a lot easier to stay annoyed with him – instead Hyojong just slides his fingers up through the hair at the nape of his neck and holds lightly, firm but not at all painful, and Hui can feel the fight drain out of him immediately.

“What are you such a stuck-up asshole for? What did I ever do to you?” He seems genuinely confused, and maybe a bit hurt, and something twists deep inside Hui’s chest at the sound.

“You - ahh..” He sounds _much_ more like a whore when he moans than he meant to, but it’s really all Hyojong’s fault considering he’d taken that exact moment to tug gently on the fistful of Hui’s hair still locked in his fist. “Just fuck me already..” Answering Hyojong's question meant giving a name to a lot of the thoughts and feelings he had, and that was something he absolutely did not want to fucking do. Hell, he doesn't want to even _acknowledge_ them.

“Okay.” He’s laughing softly, hand slipping from Hui’s hair and expression fond and tender – Hui has no fucking idea why Hyojong seems to like him so much, or why he lets all of Hui’s comments slide off of him like they’re virtually nothing. He knows without anyone telling him that he’s got a tendency to be a huge asshole to the kid, and yet Hyojong takes it all and still, for some reason, likes to hang around him despite Hui giving him nothing but insults and sex.

God, he really was a shitty person just like Hyunggu had said.

When Hui goes to sink to his knees – really, that’s literally the _least_ he could do at this point – Hyojong stops him by shoving a thigh between his legs. Hui does his best to not grind against it, largely fails, and tries to act like he’s ashamed he couldn’t stop himself. He’s pretty sure Hyojong doesn’t buy it.

“You’re not going to let me..?” Almost every interaction of theirs before now has started with one of their mouths on the other’s dick, so when Hyojong just shakes his head and draws Hui in for another kiss he has absolutely no idea what to think.

Undressing is hard, made harder still by Hui’s tight clothing and Hyojong’s apparent unwillingness to allow there to be more than a centimeter between them at all times, but they manage it. When Hyojong moves to pull away to grab a condom from the other room Hui pulls him back, mumbling a harsh _“fuck it”_ under his breath as they surge back into one another. (He is only vaguely disappointed when Hyojong insists on breaking away long enough to grab lube from one of the drawers in the main room - Hyojong's mouth is on him too quickly for him to think up some sort of snarky comment in the time he was gone, too turned on to do much of anything.)

Hui's sure Hyojong wants to take it slow, to be careful and _gentle_ like always, so he does his best to fuck himself open with Hyojong's fingers at the pace _he_ wants, keeping up a moaning mantra of _“it's fine, it's fine, I can take it"_ that results in an incredibly quick transition between fingering and Hyojong grabbing the lube before lining himself up. Hui can’t help the sound of loss he makes in the brief interim, a mix between a cry and a moan.

“Shh hyung, I’ve got you. I don’t think I’ve stretched you enough th –“

“ _Please_.” He just wants Hyojong to fuck him already and the response is instantaneous, Hyojong’s hips jerking forward as a choked off moan tumbles from his lips. Hui files away the interesting reaction to his begging for a later time.

“You take my cock so well, like you've just been waiting for me to get inside you.” Praise disguised as taunts drip liberally from Hyojong’s lips like a viscous nectar and Hui drinks it in with every press of their mouths against one another, the slide slow and the stretch bordering painful as Hyojong keeps pressing until their hips meet. Hui can feel the dull pain as he throws his head back and it connects with the wall but it’s so miniscule when compared to everything else he was feeling – Hyojong was right, he _hadn’t_ stretched him enough yet, and the burning pain is exactly the sort of meanness he wants out of Hyojong.

But Hyojong is never as mean as Hui has built him up to be in his head. When he gives a groan that sounds slightly more pained than pleasured Hyojong is there with soft, soothing words, littering his cheeks and the bridge of his nose with feather-light kisses that Hui sort of hates. Even when he starts moving his hips he’s quick to slow down or speed up depending on the sounds Hui makes.

Hui’s still pretending he doesn’t find that endearing. Still pretending he doesn’t find the fact that Hyojong can fuck him against a wall incredibly hot. Still pretending this is all just hate sex and that the other boy was really as bad as he’d been making him out to be for years.

Hui thinks it’s entirely possible that he’s dying.

The soundproofing on the wall is digging into his back and his neck burns from where Hyojong keeps biting it. He knows he’s going to have marks tomorrow but that’s the furthest thing from his mind - he's trying not to claw at Hyojong's shoulder blades by keeping his arms around his neck, but every now and then a particularly harsh thrust dislodges him and he digs his nails into the other's skin for purchase. Hui thinks that should probably hurt Hyojong, just like how he hitting his head on the wall should have hurt, but they're feeding off of one another's pleasure and he feels _so_ full that every single touch from the other boy just sets his nerve endings on fire. Hyojong's really not even holding him that high off the ground, more of pinning him to the wall instead of really lifting him - Hui can feel the floor beneath his toes but can't go flat-flooted, and that's enough for him.

“God, you’re so fucking –” Whatever Hyojong is about to say doesn’t make it to Hui – the other boy adjusts his grip ever so slightly and suddenly he’s sliding in deeper and Hui can’t breathe again. The juxtaposition between the way Hyojong is fucking roughly into him and the way his hand cups the back of Hui’s head so it doesn’t hit the wall again is too much for him to comprehend. All he can do is keep his arms wrapped tight around him, head thrown back and pressed against the other boy’s fingers as wanton moans tumble from his lips. He’s pretty damn sure he sounds like a bitch in heat at this point, but Hyojong doesn’t seem to mind. Sweat drips from his temple, sticks his faded silver hair to his forehead – he can feel some of it drip down his neck and Hyojong follows it with his tongue.

“Feel good?” Hyojong’s voice is a low rasp, slow and sweet – Hui can only whimper in response, body tingling. He feels totally helpless like this and everything burns in the best of ways but he hates the fact that he swears he’s never been fucked better in his entire life. “Tell me where you want it, baby.”

“There, _fuck_ Hyo, right fucking –” The rest of his words get swallowed up by Hyojong’s mouth and his lips at this point have been endlessly kiss-bruised and bitten raw. He can feel his cock pressed between their two bodies, blindingly hot and messy, and his head was already a scrambled mess of thoughts but when Hyojong manages to hit _that_ spot he chokes on a cry that tears at his throat, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Yeah? Gonna cum baby?” Hui can’t breathe, has Hyojong nosing along his jaw and kissing the spot beneath his ear while he fucks into him at just the right angle to make starbursts dance behind his eyelids – it’s this mixture of harsh and soft that has him sobbing out a moan, muscles burning as he clings to the other boy and presses his face into Hyojong’s collarbone. His orgasm hits him like a sudden blow to the chest, the smell of lingering cigarette smoke and sweat all he can manage to be cognizant of as he holds tight to the other boy and shakes apart in his arms.

Hyojong groans out a soft, throaty sound, spilling deep inside of him moments later – it’s messy and hot and Hui can feel the way he periodically shudders as another jolt of pleasure rocks him. When he opens his eyes he can barely focus on anything, but the way Hyojong looks as he orgasms burns itself into his brain anyway, the blonde boy's brow drawn tight and mouth open. He’s made a mess of his own chest and Hyojong’s, can see his release dripping down the ridges of the other’s abdomen in a way that makes him, distantly, want to lick it off. As it is he can’t move at all, just turns his head and sighs out a moan as he feels the way Hyojong’s twitching inside of him, lips pressing lazily at the other boy’s pulse point.

He can feel the exact moment Hyojong’s muscles give, the way he tightens his grip so he doesn’t just drop Hui to the floor. They're an inelegant tangle of limbs as they fall, Hyojong whispering words of apology every time Hui whimpers as a new wave of pleasure bursts through him from the way Hyojong was still buried deep inside him, feeling a little something like a live tripwire trapped under his skin. He wants to tell him that the apologies aren’t necessary, that it feels good (if not overwhelming), but he can’t manage much more than a headshake. He honestly was surprised Hyojong had managed to keep holding him that long, though to be fair he has no idea how long it's been. For all he knows they both came in under two minutes.

Either way, his body feels raw and aching, like any more touching would be _too much_ stimulation, and even though he came already his cock aches just like the rest of him. Hyojong painstakingly positions the two of them so Hui is stretched out on his back on the floor, chest heaving as he tries to ground himself, skin burning with heat against the chill of the flooring. Hyojong brushes his bangs out of his eyes and litters tender kisses across his flushed upper chest and neck as he fights to stop trembling.

It takes Hui too long to realize he had instinctively reached for the younger boy’s hand some time ago and was still holding it, fingers interlaced. That, above everything else, makes his throat close up with emotion.

Hui kisses him for a long time after that – Hyojong is surprisingly accommodating, nuzzles into Hui’s hairline anytime they break apart for air. It’s a sudden show of clinginess that he knows he’s already addicted to. He finds it adorable that a person like Hyojong who never gave a shit about anything was so willing to _cuddle_ of all things.

Hyojong makes a soft sort of needy sound in the back of his throat during this brief pause and Hui doesn’t even think about it, just leans back up and presses their lips together. Hyojong's fingers slide against the short hair at the nape of Hui's neck, supporting him as his tongue lazily traces the outline of the others', and it is such a tender moment that for a brief second Hui allows himself to imagine a lifetime of moments like these with the _infuriating_ boy hovering over him.

This was _so_ fucking dangerous.

Gradually Hyojong’s relatively indifferent attitude bleeds back – clean-up takes awhile considering they’d both been too horny to even think about where they were or what was around them, and Hui rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything about Hyojong using his shirt to clean the two of them off.

Hui sees her first, through the glass as he’s buckling his belt – her perfectly manicured nails are tapping out something on her phone and a surge of pure adrenaline hits him when he realizes he has _absolutely no idea_ how long she had been there for.

“Relax.” Hyojong ghosts this against the shell of his ear, patting Hui’s shoulder as he passes to push open the recording booth’s door. Hui wants to fucking deck him because in what goddamn universe would he be able to _relax_ after seeing that Hyuna had quite possibly watched her boyfriend fuck him?

“Hello, boys.” Hyuna’s smiling with her impossibly dark red lips, dripping with seduction, and Hui swears he’s about to pass out. He can hear Hyojong drawl a lazy _“hey babe”_ , like he’s not at all embarrassed about being caught – Hui supposes he isn’t, and really, he has no reason to be. Hyuna gave them the green light weeks ago.

He can’t meet her gaze regardless, feels shame burn red across his cheeks. He’s not sure if it’s her presence that bothers him or the fact that he was caught with Hyojong and was currently wearing about fifty bruises courtesy of him – he knows he still hasn’t told any of his own bandmates about their… _arrangement_. There was still a very large part of him that felt that he was somehow betraying his boys. Sure, they hadn’t ever felt the same animosity towards Hyojong that Hui did, but they had, out of principle, treated him like the enemy as well. (Most of them did, at least. There was no way Yuto would ever treat Wooseok like an enemy, and Hui couldn’t really blame him. The tall kid may have been the only saving grace the other band had in terms of likeability, in his opinion.)

“Hwitaek, I was thinking that the three of us should spend some more time together. Maybe at my place?” Hyuna’s stood up from the studio chair, letting Hyojong take her place – he’s messing with something and Hui tries to look at him but instead is drawn to the way Hyuna’s hips look, and then to the way her fingers snap in front of his face to draw his attention higher. He thinks about how he wants to kiss her, realizes he technically had permission to, and doesn’t move despite the sudden overwhelming urge to do so.

“I – sure, yeah. Whatever you want.” He’s not really sure he likes the implications of being alone with the two of them in Hyuna’s huge house – honestly he’s less scared of the implications and more scared of how little self-control he knows he’s going to have, but he doesn’t want to admit that, even to himself.

“Babe, did you record us?” Hyojong speaks up suddenly, laughing and pressing a button – and for a few split seconds Hui can hear himself moaning through the speakers, can hear Hyojong’s rasped _“gonna cum, baby?”_ – he thanks every fucking deity that Hyojong stops the recording before he hears his own response in the form of a moan.

“I just think it’s sweet how you two have decided to make your own brand of _music_ together, Jongie.” When Hyuna reaches over to flick at her boyfriend’s shoulder lovingly one of her expensive bracelets slide and hits the other, a small tinkling sound that startles Hui out of the way he’d been blankly staring at the now empty recording booth.

“I’ve got to go.” He’s not sure why this bothers him, but it does – something about there being a record of him with Hyojong, something about the way Hyuna seemed to think all of this was fine, something about the way he had lied to his band about where he’d be tonight.. something about the way he could so easily imagine fitting into their lives. His fingers are shaking when he grabs up his jacket, not even bothering to put it on. The leather hangs heavy over his shoulder.

“Hui –“ And it’s _that_ nickname, coupled with _that_ concerned expression of Hyojong’s that has something twist painfully in his chest, and he knows he needs to leave immediately. That he should have left hours ago. That he never should have come in the first place.

“Let him go.” He can hear Hyuna say this as he’s halfway out the door, can hear Hyojong complaining but can’t make out the words as he brushes past people in the hallways until he’s taking the steps down two at a time, practically sprinting out the door.

Hui feels like his chest is a mixed-up bed of thorns and flowers, so overgrown that he doesn't know where he can set his heart to rest without it being punctured – so instead of setting it down anywhere he just keeps running, hips sore and the smell of Hyuna’s perfume following him.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos if you made it to the end, i swear i'm usually a better writer than this.. ;;
> 
> _(the title is from hyunggu's song "poison", but that's about it... the song itself is very dark and hauntingly beautiful, but none of the lyrics match this fic except for that one line lol)_


End file.
